A Close Call
by WhirledPeace
Summary: Sasori and Deidara are living peacefully in their hollywood mansion. That is, until Deidara finds himself home alone, and something else as welll... SasoDei.


A/N: Dedicated to black55widow because she gave me the plot. Happy Halloween! I don't own these characters. Enjoy...

* * *

It seemed like fate they had met.

It had been a sunny day in southern California that Deidara, a sculptor for movies, was introduced to who he was going to be working with for this new production. "All right, Deidara, just shut _up_," Pein sighed. "You'll be working with who I say you work with, because this is _my _movie." Deidara shut his mouth, but he wasn't happy about it. "Right. Now, here's Sasori Akasuna. He's lead puppeteer, and is going to help build the puppets. And you'll help, or so help me, I'll knife your sorry ass." Pein nodded at Sasori and walked off. Deidara watched him leave, then turned to Sasori with a huff.

"So you're Sasori, un?" Sasori smiled charmingly.

"Yes, and you're Deidara?" Deidara eyed the man suspiciously.

"Yeah, un. Pein "in the ass" says I have to work with you, yeah." Sasori chuckled.

"I suppose so."

* * *

And of course they had hit it off. Within the week, they were dating. By the end of the movie, Sasori had asked Deidara to move in with him. "You don't live in a very nice place. I worry about you sometimes," Sasori had reasoned. Deidara had grinned and blushed.

"Aw, that's so sweet, un!" Sasori had smiled ever so charmingly.

As he was helping Deidara move, however, he felt the need to point out the somewhat obvious. "I'd appreciate it if you kept out of my workshop. You understand, that's where the magic happens. I'll keep out of yours, too." Deidara nodded and shrugged it off. "And the trash needs to be taken out in your bathroom, unless you only use mine. Once a week." Deidara nodded. He would do a lot of things to be able to live in this beautiful mansion.

* * *

And they were happy. They were independent of each other, but together. They weren't tied down by each other at all, living together. Deidara hadn't even seen some of the wings. But he didn't care, the house was too big anyway. And so they lived happily for two years.

* * *

"Deidara!" Sasori called. The blond artist came down the stairs to stand before his lover.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going out, I don't expect I'll be back until late evening, to tonight. Clean up a little bit, will you?" Deidara sighed.

"All right, Sasori, un." They kissed, and Sasori left. Once the redhead was gone, Deidara went back up to his workshop, where he worked in defiance to Sasori until he remembered he hadn't eaten breakfast and it was now a good deal past noon. So he got up from his sculpting, stretched, yawned, and headed back downstairs. Once there, he fixed himself a sandwich, and went back to his workshop, fully intent on continuing his work. But, in alignment with the conscience he possessed deep, deep down inside, the phone rang. Aggravated, Deidara got up and answered it. "Hello, un?"

"Sasori, it's about the bodies. I want them by tonight." Deidara rolled his eyes.

"I'm not Sasori, yeah. He's out, can I take a message, un?" There was a long silence.

"Never mind. Forget I called." And the other person hung up. Deidara yawned and put the phone down went back up to his workshop. At least he didn't have to be disturbed.

* * *

But then that conscience decided to surface, and he stopped his working to at least straighten up the pillows on the couches. He retreated back downstairs, and was fiddling with the pillows when a long knife fell out. Deidara rolled his eyes again and picked it up, sticking the handle in his back pocket. Knives were common in this house, seeing as Sasori always used them in his puppet making. Deidara could even tell the differences between all the different instruments. Once the couched looked at least decent, and whatever stains were on the side of the pillows no one ever saw, Deidara went into the kitchen and put the knife on the table. He'd tell Sasori about it later, seeing as he wasn't allowed in his workshop.

As Deidara turned to leave, something odd about the knife caught his attention. It wasn't like the usual ones. Curiously, he picked it up. It wasn't a puppet making knife, he knew that for certain. And neither was it a simple switchblade for protection in bad neighborhoods. It looked like an actual knife, one for harming animals or… Deidara shivered.

But it was Sasori's business, not his. Yet, for some reason, that obnoxious phone call was stuck in his heads. What did he mean bodies?

Deidara shook his head. He was being silly. Bodies probably meant puppets, and the knife would have a perfectly good explanation when his Danna got home. That was it.

* * *

After another two hours of sculpting, Deidara decided he'd better do some more work. After taking the trash out in his bathroom, he went into Sasori's bathroom. He wasn't thinking of much save his unfinished art, but after picking up the trash bag, he noticed paper towels soaked in blood. Pausing, Deidara set the bag down. What was going on? No one could lose that much blood and not have some serious repercussions. Was Sasori hiding something? Was it… Sasori's blood? Shaking his head and trying to get these evil thoughts out of his head, Deidara changed the trash and went back to his room. It was starting to get late, and Deidara knew he still had to sweep, but that could wait.

* * *

But in the end, he decided he'd better get to it. And maybe if Sasori was in good enough of a mood with the clean house, he would make dinner. Sasori was a wonderful cook, but rarely ever cooked.

And it was then Deidara realized the broom was missing. "For the love of God, un!" Deidara groaned. He then began a search of the house, from top to bottom, to find the stupid broom. It was no longer about cleaning the house. This broom had mortally insulted him with it's lack of availability, and dragging Deidara away from his work.

But the broom was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, Deidara found himself again in the kitchen. The knife caught his eye, and he paused. Maybe… just maybe there was a broom in Sasori's workshop. After all, Sasori had finished his latest order as far as Deidara knew, and wasn't there to be disturbed. So there wasn't anything wrong with going in, now was there? And he could return the knife. So Deidara picked up the knife and went down the hall to Sasori's workshop.

The first thing that hit him when he opened the door was a stench. Not quite able to place it, Deidara gagged and covered his mouth with his shirt, flipping the light switch. Corpses lined the walls, blood dripping down onto the thick carpet with thick plunks. Most were in varying stages of rotting. Deidara shrieked and ran from the room and to the nearest bathroom, promptly losing his lunch in the bathroom.

Oh _God_, those corpses! The smell, like a punch to the gut! And all that blood, it was terrible! Slowly, shaking, he got his stomach and nerves together and ran to the phone, calling the police.

* * *

Just as the police pulled up, so did Sasori. Both parties found Deidara in hysterics in the living room, ranting about dead bodies in the workshop. After getting the story out of Deidara, the police looked at Sasori, who laughed.

"I think this can be explained…" he said, leading the group back to the workshop. "If you take a closer look, these are not bodies. They're actually rubber and plastic models."

"B-but Danna, they're too heavy to be puppets-"

"Hush. This is fake blood, and some of it pig blood. That's the smell, probably. I shouldn't have left it out without cooling it. Sorry to give you such a shock. I make them for horror movies." As the officers inspected the bodies, they found this all to be true. Laughing awkwardly, they left. Sasori led Deidara out to the living room, and they sat on the couch.

"I'm sorry, un," Deidara said sheepishly. "I shouldn't have thought anything like that, yeah." Sasori smirked. "But… why didn't you tell me, un?"

"I try not to publicise it. It would really compromise my reputation. I mean, I'm a serious artist, and this side job doesn't fit with the image of me." Sasori slung an arm around Deidara's shoulder and tweaked his nose with the other hand. "And it would compromise my cute boyfriend, no?" Deidara blushed and giggled, snuggling close to Sasori.

"But… what about that knife, un?"

"I told you, Deidara, I'm not making puppets. It's for sculpting dummies."

"Oh. Is there anything I can do to make up, yeah?" Sasori got up, taking Deidara's hand and leading him upstairs to his bedroom.

"I think there is…" he said seductively.

* * *

Later that night, Deidara was asleep after their multiple romps, yet Sasori still lay awake. Looking down at Deidara's perfect, angelic face, he sighed, slipping out of bed and into a pair of pants, before going back downstairs to his workshop. He looked around at the fake corpses, and smirked. "Please, I'm not that stupid. Good thing people never look underneath the hidden." There was something Deidara didn't know about Sasori. It was that he tried to control it. He really did. He tried to be nice and never hurt anything, but it sometimes got the better of him. And besides, they wouldn't be missed…

Sasori moved a box and opened a trap door, making his way down a cold metal ladder, and into a chilly cellar. The walls were lined with metal boxes with numbers. Sasori walked over to one of these boxes, and pulled it out, revealing a chilled corpse. As he stared at the dead flesh, first a smirk, and then overwhelming laughter overtook him. So much so, in fact, he fell against the other boxes, laughing hysterically.

Once his laughter was finished, he put the corpse back and went back upstairs to his warm, living, breathing, naive, partner.


End file.
